Hazed (Palm South University)

But that’s the way it is with us, the way it’s always been.

We’re connected on a chemical, molecular level.

And nothing can change it.

This is it, my heart whispers. It’s now or never.

I still a breath, one that fills my lungs and helps me stand straighter as I push off where I was leaning against the wall. I take two steps toward Brandon, watching the way my approach makes his throat tighten, his grip on the doorknob increases.

“So,” I say when I’m just a foot away from him. “Are we done with this break you wanted, or what? Because I want you, Brandon. I never stopped wanting you. And if you’re done punishing me now, I’d like you to bend me over this chaise and remind me that I belong to you. To only you.”

The growl that rips from Brandon’s chest is primal, elemental, so animalistic that it makes me freeze up just like a gazelle threatened by a lion’s roar. In the next breath, Brandon’s hands are in my hair, yanking back as he shoves me back across the room until my spine hits the wall. My neck arches, my chin tilts, and with my next breath still lodged somewhere in my throat, Brandon crushes his mouth to mine.

The moment our lips meet, we both exhale on a greedy moan, Brandon’s grip in my hair tightening even more as I reach around and grab his ass firmly in my palms. He kisses me so hard I taste the metallic tang of blood, but I push back just as hard, seeking him just as much.

“I fucking hate you,” he seethes, grabbing both my wrists and pinning them over my head. When they’re locked under one of his hands, the other trails down to hike the silky fabric of my dress up over my hips.

“No, you don’t,” I breathe back, dragging my tongue up his neck. “You could never hate something you own.”

Another growl rips through him, and he skates his fingers under the band of my strap of a thong, slipping two fingers inside me without warning.

I cry out, arching my back off the wall as Brandon bites my neck like a fucking vampire. “You broke me,” he pants, curling his fingers deep inside me.

“So break me back.”

“Fucking hell,” he hisses, and then just like I asked, he spins me until I nearly fall flat on my face on the navy blue chaise. My hands fly out just in time to break my fall, but my hips are bent over the back of it, my palms on the plush cushions, ass up in the air.

I peek over my shoulder, batting my lashes as Brandon shakes his head and starts to undo his belt.

“Pull your dress up and drop your panties,” he commands.

A shiver runs through me, and I do as he says, assuming the same position once my bare ass is exposed.

Brandon groans at the sight of me, dropping his pants to his knees and taking his full, heavy, heaving cock in his hand as he makes his way to me.

His other hand is holding his belt.

“Are you going to spank me?” I breathe.

“You’re damn fucking right, I am.”

Excitement and terror rip through me in equal measure. I’ve never been spanked before, not with anything more than a hand, and the way Brandon is glaring at me, I can’t tell if I’m going to like this or not be able to sit for a week.

Maybe both.

“Safe word?” he asks, rubbing his palm over my ass before folding his belt in two.

“I trust you.”

He shakes his head in warning, but then his focus is on my ass.

He rears back, just a little, and then lands the leather on my skin.

I hiss, arching away from the hit, but it only stings a little. I know he can hit harder, but he didn’t.

“Don’t ever fucking kiss anyone else again,” he says, and he rears back a little more, slapping my ass with the leather enough to make me yelp.

“Yes, sir.”

“That mouth of yours belongs to me.”

Another whip.

Another welp, I imagine.

Another whispered, “Yes, sir.”

“And for the love of God, Ashlei,” he says, holding the belt up higher, his eyes locked on mine where I’m watching him over my shoulder. “If I give you my heart again, don’t fucking break it. Don’t…”

He swallows, and it’s then that I see the pain in his eyes, the emotion he’s been hiding. I push off the chaise, turning and wrapping my arms around him.

“I won’t. I promise. I never will again.” I kiss his lips, his jaw, his cheeks, his neck. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”

Brandon holds the belt up even more, and then with a wince, he drops it.

And his arms are around me.

He crushes me to him so tight I can’t breathe, kissing me senseless and winding his hands in my hair. Then, without warning, he spins me again, and I fall hands first onto the chaise with my ass up in the air.